Wherever I Am
by ShiroiOkami777
Summary: A tender heart raised without love. A quiet, held back person who never learned how to build relationships of any kind with anyone. Caring so much for people but never learning how to read how a person feels, an emotionally inexperienced Argonian travels to a new land to find a place where he belongs. A Non-Dragonborn Skyrim story featuring an Argonian character.
1. Chapter 1

The water poured from the flagon until the cup was filled to the brim. He set the glass bottle down on the table and gripped the handle of the metal tankard and lifted it to his lips, drinking until half of the contents were gone. He set the cup down and held it between both hands, looking down into what was left of the contents. His face mirrored in the water; the almost black color of his scaly and smooth skin of his long muzzled Argonian face looked back at him. Two long pallid horns protruded from the back of his head. His thin and toned framed hunched over the glass as he stared down.

He'd been sitting there for half an hour sorting through the past twenty four hours. The mass of things he'd seen were baffling to say the least. The last thing he expected when crossing the border into Skyrim was to be ambushed. Moments after crossing the border a station of archers who'd been lying in wait underneath the foliage around the road appeared around him in an enclosed circle and aimed their drawn bows directly at him. His surprise was surpassed when he found that this was no band of thieves; this was the Imperial Army, the military force of Skyrim.

And he was under arrest.

His weapons were confiscated and he was put in binds, then filed onto one of two horse carts carrying groups of other arrested people. The soldier who bound him told him he was under arrest for being a Stormcloak traitor. He had no idea what a Stormcloak was, but when he tried to tell them, his words fell on deaf ears.

A long cart ride followed. In that time, the people on the cart with him had introduced themselves and had been surprisingly friendly. They explained to him all about the Imperial Army, the Stormcloaks and the Civil War happening in Skyrim. All about the Stormcloaks desire to have Skyrim attain independence from the Empire that ruled over it so that they could worship the god Talos, which was currently against Skyrim's law. How the leader of the Stormcloaks lead them to attain this goal, and how the war began when he killed Skyrim's high king.

He just sat and listened, absorbing the information without saying a word. It was all too much and too unexpected. He had no idea what to say or what to do. The only thing he gathered from the story he'd just heard was that he'd been in this country for mere moments and had been dragged into their politics and a war he had no idea was happening.

The surprises didn't stop there. After a twenty hour cart ride, they arrived in some small village called Helgen and were lined up for execution. He was almost numb when he heard he was about to be put to death. It helped to balm the panic that would normally come from such news, but it also kept his mind from working smoothly enough to try and find a way to escape. He followed obediently when he was told to approach the chopping block. The logical side of him told him not to, but his logic was muddled away in the sea of things happening, like his senses were drowning and weren't trying to find the surface of the water because they couldn't tell which way was up.

And then like some kind of an angel that knew of his distress and came to save him, something came from the sky and landed just above him, knocking the executioner to his knees and stopping the axe that was close to ending his life. It stared down at everyone with crimson eyes, snaking its scaly, onyx colored neck downward. Then it was like the angel that came down had fallen, it opened its mouth and knocked everyone back with a shout, and stones fell down from the sky like a hailstorm.

It was a dragon.

From there, his muddled mind followed blindly as someone showed him the way to safety. Entering the safety of the town's keep, the person, who turned out to be a Nord member off the Imperial Army, cut the binds that held him and helped him find some weapons before leading him through the keep, and eventually finding their way out of the city though underground caverns and the safety of the Skyrim wilderness.

The logical side of his mind would have found it harder to trust one of the members of the army that had arrested him and tried to put him to death, but his also knew that this particular individual could be trusted to at least get him out of this place. After all, he was a stranger to this person, and yet he'd guided him to safety instead of leaving him behind to save himself.

The soldier introduced himself as Hadvar. He was friendly and he felt sincerity in his voice when he spoke. He managed to speak long enough to tell the man that his name was Tatsuo. Hadvar said there was another town called Riverwood close by and that his Uncle Alvor lived there and would take them in. Tatsuo's mind was still muddled with the experiences he'd endured in such a short time, but he had enough senses to judge that he could trust this man and followed him. It was partially by choice and partially because he had no other choice. He couldn't think straight and was in a new land where he knew nothing. He needed somewhere to go and had to follow someone who was offering him hospitality.

Following the road for two hours led them to a small town with a river running through it. Tatsuo followed Hadvar into the city and to the Blacksmith's, as his uncle was the blacksmith.

Tatsuo was welcomed as openly as Hadvar to come inside by Alvor and his wife, as well as their small daughter. Tatsuo just stood there while Hadvar explained everything to Alvor and his family. He only nodded politely when he was introduced to everyone, but said nothing.

Once Hadvar finished his story, Alvor and his wife offered for he and Tatsuo to stay the night. Hadvar accepted, but Tatsuo politely declined the offer, speaking for the first time since he arrived. They tried to insist, but he couldn't take advantage of them. He asked if there was an inn nearby and that he would stay there because it was more appropriate. They told him about the Sleeping Giant Inn across the street and he went there and rented the room.

The room he sat in right now.

He felt much calmer than he had since all this began. His nerves were relaxed and his brain was clear now that he'd had time to process everything that happened. He stared without seeing into the tankard he held in his hands. He sat with his arms on the small, round wooden table, slightly hunched over. The small, cozy size of the room and the warm lighting given off by the single candle in the middle of the table was comforting. Like the walls were hugging him and the lighting was warming him. He breathed slowly and rhythmically, keeping his heart at a normal pace and giving him a sense of peace. Something he hadn't felt since he left Black Marsh a fortnight before.

Coming to Skyrim was something he decided on when he felt there was nothing left for him in Black Marsh. He lived in a comfortable two bedroom house in a village in Black Marsh, where his father ran a Blacksmith shop. His father taught him the Blacksmithing trade as he grew up. As a result, Tatsuo knew how to mine and smelt ore, and make weapons and armor. He was also taught how to use a sword, as his father was a formidable swordsman.

Those were the only uses his father ever had.

He remembered nothing of his mother. His father never talked of her unless it was to say something spiteful. The only reason Tatsuo knew what happened to her was because his Aunt told him when he was old enough to understand. Though a lot of details were unclear and some of the story floated around as a rumor, he knew that she had left one night to get away from her husband. She needed to get away from him because of his verbally and physically abusive nature. A week after she disappeared, a messenger from two towns over brought news that she'd passed away after being attacked by wild animals. She was buried back home.

Tatsuo grew up hearing rumor after rumor about his mother. A lot of people said they didn't blame her for running away because they knew how her husband was and she was right to get away from him. Some people said they didn't understand why she left and it couldn't have been because of him because he was a nice person. But more than anything, everyone would talk about how she had abandoned her son to save herself. Most people would treat Tatsuo like every other child in the village, but some of them would look at him with pity. He always felt uncomfortable receiving so much attention, whether good or bad.

But that was more attention than he ever got from his father.

Even when his father was there, it was like he wasn't. He wasn't mean or abusive most of the time; he just didn't care. He taught Tatsuo the Blacksmith trading to have another worker to lower his workload, which he told Tatsuo when he had been learning for a while. Other than that, he received no attention from his father. It was like they were roommates left to their own devices, not father and son. But his father was still the authority figure; he made sure Tatsuo knew that. His father was stubborn and quick tempered. Everything was fine if Tatsuo did as he was told. In the ten years he lived with just his father before he passed away, he only hit him twice. Once when Tatsuo forgot to lock the weapons chest, his father punched his face. It left a bruise on his cheek, but because it wasn't a common occurrence, Tatsuo was able to convince those who saw it that it was nothing. The second and last time was when he dropped a hot iron that burned a hole in the floor. He received a full body beating for that one.

And that was the last time, as his father passed away when he was twelve years old.

Running his father's Blacksmith Shop after his passing became his livelihood. But it wasn't a wanted one; it was an inherited one. He decided to stay and run it because he was too young to travel, and had no money to fund a move to a new place. Even though he never desired the Blacksmith trade, his father taught him how to run it, and he was able to run it on his own even after his father passed. Without his father, Tatsuo was left with no family other than an Aunt that made her living as a traveling trader. She had a home in the same village as Tatsuo, but she was only there about two months out of the year. He did not know her well, only seeing her a handful of times as he grew up. When Tatsuo's father passed away, leaving him without parents, his aunt considered giving up her trade to help him run the Blacksmith shop and raise him, believing he was still too young to be on his own. After some discussion between them, it was decided against for various reasons. Mainly that Tatsuo was more comfortable on his own than with someone he barely knew. Even though he didn't know her well, he still cared about her life and didn't want her to give up her trade when he could run the Blacksmith shop by himself.

Tatsuo was generally calm and quiet. Not because of how he was raised, but because he was usually more fond of listening then talking. Though his lack of speech was also because no one ever listened. He never knew whether or not he would be fond of talking because he never felt like anyone was listening. Despite how he was treated growing up, he was a very caring and sensitive person. He had a hard time seeing someone in trouble and always tried to help when he could. He was never comfortable letting people give up something for him. It wasn't that he couldn't accept help, but that he never wanted anyone losing something of theirs for his sake. He was also very gentle. Despite the fact that he'd been taught to fight with a sword and was a formidable swordsman, he never wanted to use it to hurt anyone. He would protect his own life, but not unless he had to.

Being raised the way he had didn't change his nature, but it left him feeling that he had no one. No one cared enough for him to stay by him, and he was left alone.

Which is why he decided to leave Black Marsh; he was nineteen and ready to travel, so he came to Skyrim.

He didn't know what he was expecting to find when he came here, but certainly not this.

Tatsuo exhaled slowly and heavily before raising the tankard and downing the remaining contents. He placed the cup down then stood from the wooden chair he sat in, pushing it back with a creak. His mind was clear, and he finally accepted what was happening. He'd come to Skyrim knowing nothing of the war going on and had almost been put to death by a hasty government. He wouldn't consider going back to Black Marsh though. It may be safer there, but there was nothing there for him. Anything that may have been there, like his old home, were things he didn't want or need anymore. He had no ultimate goal or plan in mind, and would instead see Skyrim as he planned and try to find something better than what he had.

The first step would be to go back to Helgen and retrieve his equipment. His weapons had been confiscated when he was arrested and he wanted to see if he could get them back. Helgen's current state of decimation showed that his weapons may not be in one piece, but he needed to try. He'd become accustomed to those weapons, as most swordsman do, and wanted to get them back.

Being as late as it was, he knew he needed to sleep if her were to get up early enough to travel to and from Helgen and have enough time to search for his weapons. He walked over to the bed and slid down onto it, laying on his side and facing the wall. His mind was still replaying all of his thoughts but his eyes closed without any coaxing. He fell to sleep quickly and slept deeply till morning.


	2. Chapter 2

He opened his eyes to a sight that wasn't familiar at first glance. The bright tan, varnished wooden wall came into view after he blinked the sleep from his eyes. He then recognized the wall to the small room of the Sleeping Giant Inn he'd spent the night in.

He lay still as thoughts slowly trickled into his waking mind. The vast amount of things he'd seen the day before began to flow like a swift moving river, flooding his mind and overflowing until it travelled down to his chest, making it hurt, but only for a moment. He exhaled heavily and the flow slowed down, making the pain go away so he could think clearly again.

He still couldn't sort his feelings about what happened the day before or how it was going to affect his attempt to find a new life here. Skyrim was in the middle of a civil turmoil that he didn't know about and may not be the first choice of places for people looking to settle down. But Riverwood, the town he was in now, was peaceful enough, almost like it hadn't been affected by the war. If there were towns that could still be peaceful, then all hope wasn't lost for finding a place he might want to stay. And sleeping as well as he had for the night made the thoughts less harsh and easier to sort out. He would stay with his plan and take it one step at a time. Finding a new home wasn't his only reason for coming to Skyrim; he'd also never had the chance to travel much and was looking forward to sightseeing. He'd heard a lot of the beauty of Skyrim's landscapes and decided on it as his first traveling trip. Now that he was an older, albeit that he was barely an adult at the age of nineteen years, he was free to choose what life he wanted and where he wanted to spend it. Black Marsh, a place of bad memories that far overshadowed the good ones, was a place that he had no desire to be in anymore.

The only trouble was, he didn't know what kind of life he wanted. But he would see what the land of Skyrim had to offer while he thought about it.

At the moment, he decided to start by focusing on what he did know; and that was that he had a plan to return to Helgen in hopes to retrieve the weapons and supplies that had been taken from him when he was arrested by the Imperial Army. He'd been left with only the clothes he was wearing; a very comfortable, long sleeved black cotton shirt, black pants, a black belt with an iron clasp and black boots. Getting as much of his gear back as possible was the best place to start.

He turned over and sat up, sitting at the edge of the bed and put both socked feet onto the cool wooden floor. He stretched his arms above his head, inhaling deeply and then exhaling heavily as he lowered his hands down into his lap. He stood from the bed then walked over to the lone table in the room where he'd left the container of water the night before. He looked at the glass bottle, seeing that it was still half full. Satisfied that it was enough water for the morning, he opened the door to his room and walked out to the common room of the inn to get some food.

The room was well lit and warm, thanks to the crackling flames of the large, rectangle hearth that made up the middle of the room. The high ceilings made the small area seem more open and spacious, making it easier to breathe and relax. Despite the lack of outdoor light, there were two small windows on either side of the wall just under the tall ceiling, and looking out of them was the only indication that it was morning.

Tatsuo scanned the room. There was no one in the room other than the innkeeper, who stood behind the counter to his left. He walked to the counter to see about getting some food.

"Good Morning. Sleep well?" The innkeeper was a Nord, those of who made up the majority of the population of Skyrim. His skin was white and his features strong. He was well muscled, long locks of brown hair lying across his shoulders. His voice was gruff and recited; like he talked because it was his job, not because he really wanted an answer.

"Yes, thank you." Tatsuo answered him anyway, nodding politely. "I would like to purchase some food."

"Sure. What'll ya have?"

"One loaf of bread and two cheese wedges." Tatsuo decided that order would be enough for now and for his trip later.

"Comin' right up." The innkeeper walked into a room behind the counter. He shortly came back out with Tatsuo's order, wrapped in two separate cloths, and told him the total cost.

Tatsuo reached for one of the coin satchels he kept on the hips of his belt. They were rectangle in shape and made of black leather, with a flip lid that snapped shut with a silver button. When he was ambushed by the army the day before, the guards seemed more interested in being quick than being thorough; they only took his swords, which were strapped to his back and the cloak he'd been carrying over his shoulder. They didn't search him, so he still had both of his coin pouches. He was glad he hadn't lost them; he'd spent a long time saving this money and there was a lot there. It would be a shame to lose it.

He paid the innkeeper, then returned to his room and sat down at the table to eat. He ate half of the loaf of bread, one cheese wedge and finished the water. He then wrapped the remaining food in the cloths and tied it to his belt. He pulled on his boots then went to get the temporary weapons he'd brought with him from Helgen. When Hadvar helped him escape into the Helgen keep, he found two swords, which he was currently using to replace the dual swords that had been confiscated. He swung one of the sheathed swords over his head and across his shoulder so that the strap was across his chest, then did the same with the other sword but in the opposite direction, so that he had two swords on his back and the straps holding them across his chest in an X.

Satisfied, he left the room and walked through the entrance to the Inn and out into town.

The sun was bright and welcoming, the sky a deep beautiful blue canvas with soft white clouds drifting across it slowly. The sun felt pleasantly warm on his skin. He took a deep breath of the fresh air and exhaled, satisfied. The air was calm, only a light breeze blew that wasn't strong enough to be felt, but was just strong enough to move the needles of the pines trees gently.

The small town was peaceful. The air carried various sounds, like the laughs of children that played in the streets, the metallic sound of a hot iron being pounded across the way at the blacksmith's, and birds chirping as they flew by. Tatsuo felt a calming comfort settle in his chest; it was comforting to be in such a beautiful, calm place.

He looked to his left, down the pathway that went all the way through town and led out into Skyrim's wilderness. It was the path he walked yesterday to come to Riverwood, and the path he needed to walk to get back to Helgen. He would have to walk past a few houses and the Blacksmith's shop, and then he'd be on his way. So, he began heading down the path at a steady pace.

He'd made it about halfway to the edge of town, right next to the Blacksmith's shop when he heard a loud voice and a pair of pattering footsteps behind him.

"See? There he is!"

Tatsuo looked over his shoulder. There was a small girl and boy running toward him. The girl was looking at the boy and pointing in Tatsuo's direction. Tatsuo cocked his head slightly. The situation didn't alarm him, but he was confused, and a bit curious.

The pair of children didn't stop running until they were right in front of Tatsuo. They panted as they caught their breath and Tatsuo turned to face them, still looking at them curiously. Now that they were so close to him, he recognized the little girl as the Blacksmith's daughter, Dorthe. Though he'd only seen her briefly the day before, he was very good at remembering faces. He also had a great memory for names. Even if he only heard it once, he could remember it. He'd never seen the boy before, but he appeared to be the same age as Dorthe.

The children straightened up after they caught their breath and Dorthe pointed at Tatsuo again, looking at her friend and talking loudly, like she were excited and happy to prove something. "See!? I told you he was an Argonian!" The boy was staring at Tatsuo with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open, as if he were seeing something for the first time.

Now Tatsuo understood. Dorthe must have told her friend that she'd met an Argonian and he didn't believe her. They'd obviously never seen and Argonian until now. He wasn't sure how to feel about it at first; he felt like he was on display and it made him a bit uneasy. He tried to let it be, reminding himself that childlike curiosity was normal, and that was all that was happening.

Tatsuo was startled out of his thoughts and turned to look over his shoulder when he suddenly heard wooden steps creaking. Behind him were the stairs leading to the porch of the Blacksmith's house where all of the equipment was held. Walking down the steps and looking into his direction with searching eyes were the Blacksmith Alvor and his nephew Hadvar, the Imperial Soldier who'd brought Tatsuo here. Tatsuo calmed down as e recognized them.

"What are you yelling about, Dorthe?" The two men stopped until they were in front of Tatsuo. Tatsuo turned so that he was standing off to the side and between the two sets of people with one shoulder facing each group, so that the adults were facing the children. Alvor looked at his daughter while he waited for her to answer him. He was a big man, tall and well-muscled. He had long auburn hair and a short beard, and was wearing a black leather blacksmith's apron over his red, short sleeved shirt.

"Frodnar didn't believe me when I said Hadvar brought an Argonian with him!" She said it like she was complaining that she had to go through the trouble of making someone believe her. She thrust her finger in Tatsuo's direction again, making Tatsuo startle and almost lift his hands to defend himself. He was feeling a bit on edge with the fact that he was the one being talked about and he was also slightly intimidated by Dorthe's intense behavior. She looked at her friend." See? Told you!"

"Ok, that's enough Dorthe," Alvor said calmly. Dorthe looked at him. "You've proven your point so there's no reason to be angry." He folded his arms looked at her sternly. "And stop pointing at Tatsuo, you're making him nervous. Remember that talk we had about putting people on the spot?"

Dorthe's eyes opened a little wider and her intense demeanor disappeared completely. "Oh, right." She looked at Tatsuo with a sincerely apologetic look on her face. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, uh…" Tatsuo stuttered a little. He put his hand on the back of his head nervously. "It's ok, don't worry about it." Dorthe smiled brightly at his acceptance of his apology. When he saw this, Tatsuo couldn't help but grin.

Alvor nodded. "Good." He lowered his arms and smiled at his daughter. "Now go play and stay out of trouble."

Dorthe smiled back and nodded. "Ok." She grabbed her friend's sleeve and dragged him with her as they ran down the street.

Alvor chuckled, like he found the whole situation cute. "Sorry about that." Tatsuo turned to face him when he realized he was talking to him. He lowered his hand and nodded slightly. "It's fine," he said sincerely. He wasn't bothered by any of it, he just didn't expect it.

"Good morning," Hadvar greeted him warmly, speaking for the first time since he and Alvor had been there. The family resemblance between he and his uncle was pronounced in their faces, but other than that they didn't look the same. Hadvar was of average height, unlike the towering height of his uncle. He was strong, but his muscles were thinner and his build smaller. He had short red hair and wore a comfortable looking set of white cotton clothes. "Did you sleep well?"

Unlike the innkeeper, Hadvar sounded like he meant what he said. There was something about his tone of voice and demeanor that made Tatsuo see that he was being sincere. He was able to feel calm and normal again, and nodded. "Yes, thank you."

"Good." Hadvar smiled. His eyes looked over Tatsuo and his face became calculative as he noticed him all geared up, with the straps of his weapons across his chest and a small bag tied to his belt. "Going somewhere?"

"Uh, yeah." Tatsuo hadn't planned on telling them about his trip because he didn't see any reason to. But now that he was being asked, he was ok with telling them. "I was planning on going back to Helgen. I want to try to get my stuff back."

Hadvar's expression changed. His eyes softened and he looked like he was recalling a memory that he felt guilty about. "Oh, I see." Tatsuo cocked his head slightly. He didn't understand why Hadvar appeared sullen all of a sudden.

It was quiet for a moment before Hadvar straightened up and said, "Alright, I'll go with you."

"Huh?" Tatsuo straightened up a bit, startled by the request. "Oh, no, that's ok," he said, shaking his head slightly. For as long as he could remember, he'd travelled by himself. Not that he ever went that far, but he'd always been alone when he went somewhere. He found comfort in the solace; not because he didn't like having people around, but because he was used to it. In addition, he learned something about himself as he got older. Despite how he'd been treated growing up, receiving no real love from either of his parents and never having a real relationship with anyone, not even a friendship, he still cared deeply for people. Whenever he saw someone hurting or in need, it caused an inexplicable sharp pain in his chest, and he always reached out and helped them when he could. He also felt responsible for someone's safety when he was with them. If someone was with him, he felt that it was his responsibility to protect them, and if something happened to them, then it was his fault. He didn't think he could handle that kind of guilt, so he always chose to travel alone.

"Please allow me to accompany you," Hadvar pleaded. "I've been worried about the people of Helgen since the attack." He lowered his head and stared at the ground, suddenly sullen. "It is the Imperial Army's responsibility to protect the people. I know my comrades that were at Helgen did what they could to help the people, and I'm sure they stayed after the attack to help everyone recover and escape." He lifted his head and looked Tatsuo in the eye. "But I need to go back and see if there's anything left that I can do."

The despair in Hadvar's eyes was severe, and Tatsuo was silent. Hadvar was clearly in need. He needed to see if there was something he could do to help the people of Helgen and his comrades, and he was asking Tatsuo to let him go there with him. He couldn't refuse a request from someone in need.

He sighed quietly through his nose, then nodded. "Ok."

Hadvar grinned. "Thank you." He began walking towards the front door to Alvor's house at a quick pace. "I'll get geared up and be back in a minute." He entered the house and closed the door behind him.

"Thank you for letting him go with you." Tatsuo turned to look as Alvor spoke to him. The blacksmith frowned like he was concerned about something. "He's been worried about his companions and the people of Helgen. Been talking about going back to check on them." He looked Tatsuo in the eye and smiled. "He'll be safer travelling with a fellow swordsman."

That was right. Hadvar was a member of the Imperial Army, meaning that he'd been trained in combat and could defend himself. Tatsuo still couldn't tame his sense of responsibility, but he found a bit of comfort in knowing Hadvar could take care of himself.

A few short minutes passed before Hadvar came back from the house. He was wearing his Imperial armor; a set of tan, short sleeved leather armor, leather bracers on his arms and tall leather boots on his feet. An Imperial Sword made of steel was at his hip and a bag of what Tatsuo assumed was provisions were tied at his belt, similar to the way Tatsuo had. He approached Tatsuo with a smile. "Ok, let's head out."

"Be careful out there, and come back as soon as you can," Alvor said to his nephew. Hadvar nodded, then he and Tatsuo walked side by side down the path until they were out of Riverwood and on the path to Helgen.

It was quiet for the first few minutes as Riverwood slowly disappeared behind them. The weather was right for travel; the sun was bright and warm enough to keep the air at a very comfortable temperature.

In all of his life, Tatsuo had done very little travelling. The farthest he'd ever gone was to the town closest to the one he grew up in, which was a steady three hour walk down a public cobblestone road. But the few times he'd made that round trip, he was alone every time. He'd never travelled with anyone before. Therefore, he'd been quiet this whole time. He'd never been much for talking and wouldn't know what to say even if he was. And as far as he could tell, after glancing at Hadvar after a few minutes of walking, his travelling companion was enjoying the silence as well.

They were walking at a steady pace for about ten minutes when Riverwood was completely hidden behind them by trees. That was when Hadvar decided to liven up the trip with conversation.

"So, I've been meaning to ask you." He looked sideways at Tatsuo, not slowing down or breaking his pace. Tatsuo did the same, meeting Hadvar's gaze as they continued down the road. "Where did you learn to dual wield?" He grinned at Tatsuo, almost as if he were impressed. "It's just that I've seen very few dual wielders, and I was impressed by your abilities in battle yesterday." His smile went away and he turned his eyes away from Tatsuo, his expression softening into a sullen one. "And grateful for your mercy."

Tatsuo's mouth opened slightly, surprised by what he heard. He looked at the road ahead of him and involuntarily recalled what Hadvar was talking about.

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It was quiet in the keep, and Tatsuo was grateful he could stand and catch his breath. His hands were still bound, and he hung his head and stared at the stone floor, panting heavily. The adrenaline was still rushing through his veins and his heart was still humming rapidly, but he felt safe inside the walls of the Helgen keep. But he didn't drop his guard; the dragon's roar echoing outside the safety of the walls reminded him of the danger just outside the keep.

"You alright?" The panting voice of the Imperial soldier who led him here asked as he approached him. Tatsuo nodded without looking up, his breath slowing down as he regained himself a little.

The metallic sound of a weapon made Tatsuo look up. The Imperial was holding a dagger in one hand and gesturing for Tatsuo with the other. "Here, I'll cut your binds off."

Tatsuo only hesitated for a moment before holding his arms forward. He was still reeling from what was happening, but he knew he could trust this man. He'd led Tatsuo through the city while it was being attacked by a dragon that sought to destroy as much as it could and attack everyone in sight. Someone who went out of his way to bring Tatsuo to safety showed selflessness. He knew he could trust him.

The imperial gripped Tatsuo's wrist and slid the dagger over the ropes twice before they snapped away from Tatsuo's wrists and fell to the floor. Tatsuo involuntarily rubbed at the rope burns around his wrists, grateful to be free of the binds. He looked at the Nord. "Thank you."

The Imperial nodded. "Of course." He glanced around while Tatsuo continued to rub the soreness from his wrists. "There should be some weapons in here somewhere. You should gear up before we try to find a way out of here."

Tatsuo looked around the small room. Among the array of things in the room, there were weapon racks with varieties of weapons. Lowering his hands to his sides, he walked to the other side of the room. Standing in front of one of the racks, he found two swords hanging on one of them. He recognized them by color and design; one was steel and the other iron.

Looking to the right, he saw a shelf full of weapon sheaths with leather shoulder straps. He went to the shelf and looked through them, quickly finding one designed for an iron sword and one for steel. Most weapons had a generic design, and therefore were different weights and sizes. To make identifying which sheath held which kind of weapon easy at a glance, each sheath also had its own design based on which weapon type it was for. Steel sword sheaths were made of a smoother, lighter leather, and both kinds of sheaths had designs at the hilt and tips made of the same material of whatever the swords was made of. He grabbed one of each and went back to the swords.

He reached for both swords at the same time, lifting the steel sword with his left hand and the iron with his right. He held them both upright, gripping the handles firmly. They were similar in weight to his normal ones that had been confiscated by the army, mostly that the sword in his right hand was heavier than the one in his left, which was exactly what he wanted.

Satisfied, he placed the weapons on the rack, then swung both of the sheaths over his shoulders so they were at his back and the straps were across his chest in an X. He then lifted both of the weapons, then, lifting them over his head, sheathed them behind him with a satisfying shing.

Satisfied, he turned to see how the soldier was doing. He blinked in surprise when he found the Nord looking at him like he was confused. The soldier seemed to come to his senses quickly, and his face became more serious. "Ready?"

Tatsuo nodded. He was confused as to why the Nord had looked at him in such a way, but let it go. He needed to be ready to get out of here.

From there, they went through the door in the back of the keep and went through curved hallways. At the end of the last hallway, the came upon another door, which was already open. There were voices on the other side, so the Nord and Argonian slowed down and walked slowly toward the door. There was no telling who was inside and whether there was cause for alarm, so they decided to remain out of sight until they knew.

When they were close enough to see into the room, they saw a group of three Stormcloak soldiers on the right side, identified by the blue leather armor they wore. Two of them were leaning with their backs against the wall, and the other was standing in front of them. One of the ones on the wall was was leaning down with his hands on his thighs, panting heavily as if he'd been running for a long time. The other two appeared to be arguing.

"Stormcloaks," the imperial soldier whispered. He turned to look at Tatsuo. "Let's bring them with us. We can tell them that we just want to get away from Helgen and we can work together."

Tatsuo nodded. He wanted to help everyone he could as well. Which side they were on meant nothing to him, and he only wanted to see everyone make it away from this place safely. He was glad that the Imperial soldier felt the same.

The Nord stepped into the room, Tatsuo by his side. The Stormcloak on the wall who had been arguing noticed this and turned his head towards them, his eyes widening with alarm.

"Imperials!" He shouted. He pushed himself from the wall and pulled a warhammer from his back. Gripping it in both hands, he charged forward toward the two that had entered the room.

The Nord instinctively reached for his weapon and pulled it out just in time to meet the warhammer that came swinging down on his head. He held the hilt in one hand and placed his other hand on the flat of the blade in a block. The hammer came down heavily and clanged loudly against the blade, but the attack had been stopped. The Stormcloak pressed the hammer down, trying to break through the block, but the Imperial held it back. By now the other two Stormcloaks had drawn their weapons and advanced on them.

Tatsuo had been frozen in shock for the first few seconds of the sudden attack, but he was now aware that one of the soldiers, wielding a greatsword, was coming toward him. The sword swung down in a vertical slice towards the Argonian. He sidestepped the attack, and the edge of the sword clanged against the floor. Instead of drawing his weapons, Tatsuo moved forward from the sidestep and grabbed the Stormcloak's wrist with both hands, twisting the arm back in a sharp motion. The swordsman yelped as his hand was ripped from the hilt of his sword. Holding on to the freed wrist with both hands, Tatsuo pulled the arm away from the body so that the abdomen was exposed, then lifted one foot and pushed his leg forward in a powerful kick, hitting the Stormcloak in the stomach. The rebel crumpled to the ground, dropping his swords and holding his stomach with both hands.

Right as the Stormcloak fell, the third of the group became visible behind him, wielding a warhammer and advancing on Tatsuo, quickly stepping around his fallen comrade.

This time, Tatsuo drew his swords. Simultaneously, he reached his hands behind his head and grabbed both weapons, pulling them out in a swift motion and bringing them forward. He took a step back and spread his feet apart, planting one foot firmly behind him, then crossed his swords in an X in front of his face. The warhammer landed between the tips of the swords and held in place as the Stormcloak tried to force his way through the block. Tatsuo 's legs absorbed the impact and he gritted his teeth, his arms burning as he held back the strong blow. He pushed his swords up, so the slid against the warhammer's handle. He inhaled sharply then, pushing his muscles to their limit, pulled his arms toward each other, causing the swords to cross in a motion that twisted the warhammer. The force loosened the grip the rebel had on the hammer, and it slid out his hands. It fell to the floor with a clang.

Tatsuo pointed the tips of the swords up, then ran forward and rammed his fists into the Stormcloak's chest, pushing with all his might until they were moving backwards, until the rebel's back and head collided with the wall. Tatsuo took a step back as the Stormcloak slid down to the floor, groaning loudly.

Tatsuo panted and turned his head. He saw the imperial standing over the Stormcloak that had attacked him. Tatsuo didn't know how their fight had gone, but the rebel appeared unconscious.

It was then that Tatsuo noticed the Imperial looking at him with wide eyed surprise. It only lasted for a moment though, as both were reminded that they only had a few moments to flee when they heard one of the rebels groan, indicating that he was conscious.

Without saying a word, both ran out of the room and down the halls, leaving the attackers behind.

\\\\\

Tatsuo ground his hands into fists stagnant emotions suddenly flodded him. The memories were clear, as was the fear he'd felt, the adrenaline he'd felt. That fight was the first time he'd fought another person where lives were at stake. All the fights he'd had before that involved weapons were for training purposes or practice. Never had his life been on the line.

And never had someone else's been on the line.

The fear he'd felt wasn't just for his own safety. There was also a lot fear for the fate of his opponent. One of the many things he learned when training was that there was more responsibility in a battle than protecting yourself. You also held someone else's life in your hands. How you fought the battle and how far you would go to protect yourself would decide your opponent's fate. Tatsuo never wanted to hurt anyone if he didn't have to. He learned to fight with swords because he not only wanted to protect himself, but he also found a certain fulfillment in sword fighting. Not because he enjoyed the violence of it, but because he felt accomplished that he had talent in battle. But never did he want to end someone's life, whether with swords or any other way. He didn't know if he could live with the knowledge he was responsible for ending someone's addition to that, he just cared too much about people to hurt someone. To him, everyone's life mattered, and he didn't want to be responsible for ending one.

"So, um…" Tatsuo was pulled from his reminisce as Hadvar spoke to him. He looked at the Nord, who watched the road ahead with a soft expression. "Thank you for sparing their lives."

In the short few hours he'd spent in Skyrim, Tatsuo felt he'd seen some of the worst of it. War had blinded so many people, making them hate one another because of a simple difference in views and the notion of killing someone for not believing the saewm thing they did was sadly not as rash as it would be outside of a war. Tatsuo was grateful that, in the time where he found himself at the mercy of these people, Hadvar turned out to be one of the people that still believed in mercy.

Obviously, he needed to look at this land in a different light and not let his first experiences define the land or the people. Hadvar was the example that not all of Skyrim's people turned to hatred because of the war. He needed to remember that there were many people in a country, and the actions of a few shouldn't define them all.

He looked forward. It wasn't often that he knew what to say, but he did now. "You spared them as well."

Hadvar nodded. "Ending a life is not a light matter. I will defend my family and I will take down those who try to hurt them. But I won't end their lives if there is another way."

It was quiet for a few minutes as the remnants of the conversation faded away gradually. Both of them began to feel a bit more normal and continued on.

"Oh, that's right," Hadvar's tone was lighter and he looked at Tatsuo curiously. "You still haven't told me where you learned to dual wield."

Tatsuo glanced at him, but didn't turn away from the path ahead. "Oh. I taught myself."

Hadvar looked at him with surprise. "Oh. That's amazing." He hesitated, like he was working something out in his head. "But surely you didn't learn to wield a sword on your own."

Tatsuo turned his gaze to the ground. It wasn't a subject that he wanted to talk about, so he answered shortly and like he was talking into the air, not to Hadvar. "I taught myself to dual wield. But my father taught me to wield a sword."

Hadvar nodded and smiled like the he were satisfied with how much it made sense. "I see." He looked forward again. "I only ask because dual wielders are a rare sight. I've been told it takes a massive amount of speed, skill and talent and it's not easy to learn." He grinned. "You're skills are impressive."

Tatsuo nodded, but said nothing. Dual wielding had never been difficult for him. It felt so natural to him that teaching himself was easy. After all, he didn't have a teacher to help him. After he learned one handed sword fighting from his father, he began to train on his own. There was something that felt off balance as he moved his body in the poses he'd been taught, like there wasn't enough weight on the left half of his body. So he tried adding a second sword to his practice, wielding one in each hand. It felt so natural that he started training with two swords. However, he had to do it in his own time and away from his father. His father was a master swordsman with one handed blades and had been teaching Tatsuo how to fight in that style. He was also very stubborn and controlling. When he saw Tatsuo with two swords, he became angry and told him he was doing it wrong. His stubborn and selfish nature blinded him into believing that his way was the right way. His anger only got worse when Tatsuo tried to tell him that it felt more natural, so Tatsuo had to train on his own when his father wasn't around. He hadn't learned all the correct ways and skills on his own however. He asked his aunt to get him a book on dual wielding while on her travels. She came through, and Tatsuo learned the poses and skills through the book. A teacher would have been a better example, but he only had the book, and he learned all he needed from it.

The remained of the two hour trip was a bit livelier with conversation. Hadvar did most of the talking and Tatsuo gladly listened. Hadvar talked about his family, how he'd learned the ways of the sword, and how he joined the Imperial Army years ago to serve the High King and protect the Skyrim Capital, Solitude. Sadly, the King had been assassinated, one of the many embers that fueled the war. Needless to say, he wasn't happy about everything that was expected of him once the war started. The Army's job went far beyond protecting the people. They were now responsible for arresting any rebel Stormcloak they came across, and he even had to preside over some executions. He knew there would be risks when he chose to be a soldier and that there may be fights leading to death. But he never thought he'd have to serve in a war. Never did he think he'd have to see his people turn on each other with so much hate over a simple difference in views. True that most of the violence and hate began with the assassination of King Torygg. But the people he'd respected growing up, the people he'd seen work together as a country were now turning on each other. It was a difficult thing to see. He was beginning to wish he hadn't joined the army.

The lively conversation came to a halt when they reached the border of Helgen.


End file.
